The Joys of Unintended Consequences

Life is full of unintended consequences, those little ‘gotcha’ moments. When life hands you one, the results can be funny or tragic or difficult or puzzling or frustrating — any emotion in the range of human existence. And it’s there that the writer finds his story.

When my sister’s kids were young, they sometimes got restless and bored. Colleen, being an inventive mom, was always looking for ways to keep them busy. One day when her six-year-old son complained that he was bored, Colleen handed him and his three-year-old sister each a pair of childen’s scissors and asked them if they would please go out and cut the back lawn.

Of course the kids jumped at the chance to help. They shot out the patio door and began diligently cutting the grass. Colleen supervised them for a few moments before returning to her chores, confident in the fact that her children would be entertained for hours. 

Sounds brilliant, right? The back yard wasn’t so large as to make the task a daunting one, and the children were contentedly working away. 

Or so it would seem. 

When she called the kids in for lunch, she immediately noticed something different about her daughter. Stephanie’s beautiful golden-brown hair was…well, it was no more. Instead, tiny spikes of a variety of lengths dotted her head. When Colleen asked what happened, Stephanie replied, “I cut my hair, Mommy.” 

Yes, indeed. Stephanie had cut her hair. She had cut her hair so short in so many places that the stylist they called for an emergency appointment took one look at her and said, “There’s not much I can do with that. All I can do is even it out.”

That poor woman did the best she could, but Stephanie still looked like a little lamb in shearing season. For weeks, everywhere they went, people would look at Stephanie with sad smiles and give shy, sympathetic glances at the rest of the family. People in line at the grocery store would offer to let them cut ahead. The reason for this odd behavior became apparent one day, when a woman was bold enough to say, “What a brave little girl. Cancer sucks.” 

If life had no unintended consequences, writers would have had to invent them. Those little moments are the raw resources that fuel stories and make them memorable. When Romeo's attempt to stop a fight results in the death of his friend. When Montag brings home the book rather than burning it. When Gertrude drinks the poison intended for Hamlet. Without those surprises, the lives of our most beloved characters would be flat. Boring. Mundane. 

Just as our lives would be without these unexpected moments.

How to Become a Better Writer (in Four Easy Steps--Revised)

A friend asked my advice on how to become a better writer. The advice I gave him kind of follows the rules I used to become a better writer. I don't know if it's really all that helpful or profound or anything, but I thought I'd share it.

Four Steps to Becoming a Better Writer

1) Read. Read everything you can put your hands on. By reading millions of words, you are going to develop an understanding of storytelling, story structure, character development, and most importantly, the elements of writing. And the best part is that you won't even realize you are learning that stuff! You're learning by osmosis! (See? It's like sciencey stuff.)

2) Write. Do you remember the old joke--Q: "How do you get to Carnegie Hall?" A: "Practice, practice, practice." The only way to learn how to play the piano is to practice. You've got to hit lots of bad notes before you become good. The same thing is true for writing: you've got to write a lot of crap before you get good. And believe me, you will write a lot of crap. I did. Hell, I still do. I always know that my first draft is going to suck. Period. Because ALL first drafts suck. It's a law of nature. But if you don't practice, you'll never get all the mistakes out and become a better writer.

3) Join a writing group or take a class. Sharing your writing with a supportive critique group will improve your writing. You don't want people who are just cheerleaders--if you want someone to tell you you're wonderful, go talk to your momma. If you're serious about writing, you want a group that is not afraid to tell you that your writing sucks. But you don't want them to stop there. You want them to tell you why is sucks and what they think would help you improve it. Then you have to decide what parts of their criticism you agree with and when they are full of it. Because ultimately, you are the writer. You control the destiny of your characters.

4) And the last bit of advice I'd give you is this: if you really do have wonderful, inventive, imaginative ideas and plots that sparkle and hum with life--if you have a really great story--you're going to do fine. Because the actual act of sitting down and writing is the easiest part of writing. The hardest part is coming up with the ideas that will sustain a story through 90,000 words. And after all, writing is about telling a story. So if you have the ideas, the rest can be fixed. It may take a half-dozen rewrites and months, or maybe even years, of careful editing. It may take having your group read it once, twice, three times or more. But remember: the ideas, the plot, the story--that's the hard part. The grammar, word choice, punctuation. All that's fixable.

So that's it, in a nutshell. My writing advice. I hope it's helpful. Keep writing, and write every day. Practice, practice, practice. That's the only way it to get to Carnegie Hall.

Keeping New Year's Resolutions (Or Not)

A lot of people pooh-pooh New Year's resolutions. They are, many say, ridiculous and meaningless and ultimately do nothing but shine a spotlight on all the failures in your life. Perhaps. That's definitely one way to look at it.

I usually don't make a big deal of making resolutions. That's because I usually don't keep them. I mean, here we are, the third week of January, and already I've blown one of my New Year's resolutions. Okay, if I'm really honest, I haven't kept any of them perfectly.

That said, I have done fairly well with the food-related resolutions. The resolution I have come closest to keeping: cutting out high fructose corn syrup. I've become acutely aware of anything that might contain HFCS. I read all labels and scrupulously avoid purchasing those items. I've also cut back drastically on the amount of white starches I eat. Cut back, but not completely cut out. I allow one day a week in which I can eat white starches. Unfortunately, this weekend kind of turned into a bit of a potato-fest. But now I'm back on the wagon.

And that brings us to my third and final resolution, the one that actually concerns you. I promised myself when I started this blog that I would post something at least once a week. The first week, I did great. I posted not only once, but twice! This blogging stuff is a breeze!

Then I forgot to post anything last week. I thought about throwing myself on your mercy, of begging and pleading for forgiveness. I worried that you would think I was a failure, a complete bum. One empty promise after another. But then I realized: you've got better things to do with your life than to sweat over my not getting another entry posted to my blog. I'm much more concerned about it than you will ever be.

And that's when it hit me: it's easy to put yourself on the rack for dropping the ball on NY resolutions. But you really shouldn't be very hard on yourself. After all, a resolution is a promise to try to do better. That's really the most important part about making resolutions: resolving to improve, to try harder, to move toward a goal. It's a little way of reminding ourselves that we aren't perfect--that nobody is--but that we are going to try our darnedest to do better in the future. 

Resolutions help us move toward the change we want to see in our lives. It's not a disaster if you fail to live up to that resolution one day. It's a reminder of all the other days you did what you said you would. And the great thing about beginning the changes with the new year is that you have an easy way to measure your progress: I've made it eight days without a cigarette. I've lost 13 pounds in four months. I've written on my blog every week for six weeks.

Change is a process, and as long as we're moving toward positive change, that's a good thing.

Drabbles

One of the most challenging--and fun--exercises is to write a drabble. "What the heck is a drabble?" you might ask. A very good question. It's a short story. A very, very short story. Only 100 words long, excluding the title, a drabble really makes the writer stretch his creative muscles in searching for just the right words to tell a story without excess verbiage. Here's one of mine.

Funny

“Mommy?”

I opened one eye, finding the clock. 2:46.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” I asked my four-year old without stirring. Lately, she has been having nightmares; nocturnal visits have become regular occurrences.

“I feel funny.”

Sighing, I sat on the edge of the bed. “Come to Mommy.”

My hand touched Amy’s forehead. A shiver traveled through me; I realized that she really did “feel funny.” The reptilian creature who had once been my daughter bared its razor teeth, tearing my flesh.  

Now I understand—

I turn to my sleeping husband; I can almost taste the blood.

“Honey…? I feel funny.”

*****

And that's how it's done. Go on! I know you want to try it!

Hello!

Welcome to my blog. Pull up a chair and sit a spell. Make yourself comfortable.

Um...I didn't mean that comfortable. This is a public forum, after all.

So here I am, all alone in my home office. This is where the magic happens. This is where I wrote my book. And after I wrote it, this is where I rewrote it. Then I showed it to a few people--my writing group, a couple of friends, my sister. Then I rewrote it again. Rereads. And then, one more rewrite. For over three years, I've worked on it, worked to perfect it. And while I know it's not perfect-- because no book has ever been perfect--I know it's the best I can make it at this point in my writing career.

The easy work is done. Now it's time to convince someone in the publishing industry that people might want to read my book.

And I'm starting this blog because one of the things that professional writers do. I'm practicing for the day when I become a professional writer. Also, I kind of like to hear myself talk, so a blog is a natural progression for me.

As I started typing this message on my electronic notepad, I wasn't quite sure what to say. I'm still not sure I've said the right things. But in a moment, when I press the post button, the contents of this blog will be out there for the world to see. For better or worse, my words will be floating through cyberspace. Flying through the atmosphere at more than a billion miles per hour. Of course, I might be a little off in my figures. Sciency stuff was never my strong suit.

The point is this: millions of people will be able to read my thoughts and examine my ideas and say to themselves, "Ah. I never saw it that way. This changes everything! It's morning in America! Myrtle, let's sell the house and the dogs, 'cause we finally found our purpose!" Or they might think, "What a load of crap!"

But isn't that what writing's all about? The writer's job is to put himself out there. To take a chance. To open a vein and bleed. To stand naked before the world.

Don't worry. I'm not going to do that last thing. I was raised Lutheran. We don't even get naked in the shower.

Here's the thing: yesterday, I jumped off the cliff. I sent off my query letter. If all goes well, I should have an agent before too long. If things don't go my way, there's another cliff right around the corner. And I'm not afraid to fling myself off that one, either.

And that's what it's been like so far, as I try to break into the profession. Wanna tag along? Let's see where this little adventure takes us. You and me. Jumping off cliffs, like Butch and Sundance.